(apologies for the long-ass backstory)His family were relatively well to do, living in battersea within london itself. he had a promising future, as his siblings both showed great promise and went off to good private schools. However, try as Peter might to ignore them, he could see things on the edge of his vision always, which affected his academic abilities naturally. This started getting worse when he could hear them too. His moods started getting affected, and he was eventually diagnosed with Schizo-affective disorder. he was medicated, and for a time that helped. He went to Brighton University, to start studying psychology, but while there he met someone at a support group that told him to try decreasing the dose slowly, and mentally preparing for the effect he knew would come. This seemed to go well, but looking around he wasn't sure of what he was seeing all of the time. Especially when his friend from support came up to him, and appeared to have blue skin. His friend asked him to come with him, and so Peter did. When his friend said that it should be easier to get there, Peter wasn't quite sure of what he meant, but the fact that they were going though the more unused back-alleys were getting him very nervous. He could smell the beach, but couldn't see anyone. The iron railings were getting more and more rusted, bent and twisted. Every one he passed seemed to scratch him. He kept tripping, as if the ground was actively trying to act against him the only familiar voice was his friend urging him towards him, so he kept going that way.

When he left the city, the beach was not what he had become familiar with. It was... Brighter some how, more intense. the sand was a more golden yellow, the dunes were more delightfully shaped. It was all lit by torches and bonfires here but no people attending them. There was no sun in the sky which was stranger still. looking around one camp had a man seemed to be relaxing with a fishing pole, with what might have once been people scurrying around him. Peter looked around for his friend, but he'd gone. He asked the relaxing man where he was. The Fisherman turned to face him, smiled and said "Finally, the bait worked. I've been needing a new sun. last one escaped on me". He proceeded to stand up and uncapped something that looked like sun lotion. Peter tried to step back, but the sand beneath his feet refused to let him push forward. Falling over, the strange man stepped on his foot, and it felt like he was made entirely of lead. He poured the questionable paste onto his back and told presumably those around him to get to work. many hands started to smear the unpleasant substance , which stung like rubbing alcohol on open wounds. Peter couldn't escape, try as he might, he always turned and got more substance smeared on him. When they stopped, Peter demanded to know what was going on but was told that that didn't matter. All he should know, as he was being picked up by the neck and moved backwards, is that he should remember to smile. He could see the orange light of a bonfire lighting up the area around him, and he was moving closer. then he was tossed onto the fire, and immediately burst into flames. Flames more intense than the bonfire itself, and searing through every nerve in his body. He lay there screaming as it the pain grew to penetrate through him, until it eventually numbed. The Fisherman sighed, and resolved to get a large barbecue for next time, so he could smell the sizzle better. Peter stayed there, eyes closed until he was moved physically. He knew he should have died, but he hadn't. he could feel long, thin metallic fingers pulling a crust off him, and he felt physically very different. The Fisherman sounded delighted at the progress, that it went so well. He'd have to make sure to get another one from distant lands. Perhaps the maturation process helped too. Nonetheless, He'll do just wonderfully, for setting the scene. He gave Peter a pair of what felt to be glasses, for Peter had yet to open his eyes, and threw him upwards until he felt something take hold of him with hundreds of tiny hands. The last thing he heard from the Fisherman was "You'll want to put the shades on. Get's a bit bright up there". And so it was. Intense, bright light filled his vision, and he couldn't see anything, even with the shades on. Heat radiated from his skin, and There he was trapped, a mere ornament in this monsters Pastiche. He didn't go east to west, he went whichever way the fisherman felt like bringing the fish in from. And always, even when he tried to warn them, the creatures of the land and sea would follow him. Many of them looking too much like people for him to not try. over time he saw the change in some of them, as they kept getting thrown back to the sea. It was the sport after all. The Fisherman never actually seemed to eat anything more complex than coconuts. Which he grew as required. From yet another servant. Damn, Peter hated this place. So, he plotted his escape. He talked to the clouds which pulled him around the sky and asked them for help. He spoke to the creatures of the sea and told them he had a plan to get them free before they become monsters. He talked to the ocean itself. In time a plan was formed. It partly worked. In that, Sure they escaped, but The Fisherman didn't actually seem to do what they expected, but rather it felt like they were doing what he wanted them to. The last any of them saw was him Yawning, stretching, and saying that He should probably get back to his boss anyway.

As they pushed back through the passages that the had come from, staying together for support, Peter started feeling much clearer, more like himself. he looked down and his skin was dimming, though it still retained a warm, summer glow. The other too became more human. When they managed to push back through They noticed that things had changed. Years had passed. They stayed together to get their bearings, but the paranoia that The Fisherman had left some trap soon broke them apart, with only vague contact detail left between them. Peter left the group too, but only at the end. He felt like he'd failed somewhat. Nonetheless, he decided to return to London, and try and explain things to his parents. He managed to hitchhike his way there, and got to the inner city. He couldn't remember the old phone number, but he did remember the address, and their wonderfully kept garden. It was one of those treasured memories. He got enough money to go to an internet café to find out how to get there from where he was, and find that his social media passwords still worked. Unfortunately, It seems something got there first. There was something masquerading as him. He couldn't just barge in there, since, as he looked at his reflection, He looked only barely like his original self.

Mien:Hair: Golden tipped, Flames at base, constantly in motionEyes: Ember red, with vague dark spots in centre like sun spotsSkin: Hues and patterns like surface of the sun, But much dimmer.Height: 1.6mWeight: 62kgSex: MaleDescription: shortish androgynous looking young adult, wearing shades nearly constantly (even in darkness) Scavenged clothes, has been living homeless for the past few weeks. The dirt doesn't seem to encrust on him though, just the clothing.

Seemings: Fairest(+) Spend Glamour to improve dice pools involving Presence, Manipulation and Persuasion(+) Do not suffer a penalty for untrained social skills.(-) -1 when rolling to avoid losing Clarity

Kiths: Bright one and Flamesiren

Can illuminate an area at will. By spending a Glamour, can make the light blinding; anyone targetting the Bright One gets a -2

Once per scene, spend a Glamour, everyone looking must roll Res + Comp, or suffer -2 to all actions until scene or effect ends.

Entitlement:Court:

Concept: The British Holiday Sun

Virtue: DeterminedVice: Trusting

Aspirations:LT: Become part of his family once moreST: Learn what's taken his placeST: Find other changelingsST: Get off the streets

Experience: 2 Left / 8 Total acquired(6 spent on affinity contracts3 starting merit dots to up wyrd by one)Beats: 0

Equipment:SunsShades (** token): Reverse light and darkness. drawback is -2 to all perception rolls for an hour after you take them off or turn them off. catch: smudge ink on your eyelids and the lens (which gets absorbed over the hours use). become blinded for 5 minutes after use, and drawback lasts a day.